


Mismatched

by papercut_girl



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Fighting Demons, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Socks, don't judge me too much plz, like this is my first fic, seraph blades and runes and stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 11:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5161466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papercut_girl/pseuds/papercut_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This work is based on a headcannon of mine: Alec accidentally puts on one of Magnus's socks. When Magnus notices, he mixes up all their pairs so they always wear one of their socks and one of their boyfriend's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mismatched

The phone rang once.

Alec knocked it off the bedside table with his hand. _Accidentally_ , of course.

It kept on ringing.

Through the haze of sleep Alec detachedly asked himself why he even bothered to own such evil torture device.

Then he recognized the melody (Boss Ass Bitch) as Jace’s ringtone. _Dammit._

He groped around blindly and finally managed to raise it to his ear, asking “What’s wrong?” And if it came out more as an incoherent “whgngs gngg”, well, it wasn’t his fault it was, like, three in the effing morning.

Clary’s urgent voice came from the other side of the line. “Alec. We need you to come here right now. There’s been a demon attack on a werewolf bar, Midnight Moon.” His eyes opened wide, suddenly alert. “-we’re already there.” He wiggled out from under Magnus’s arm, instantly missing the warmth, and started methodically groping the floor in the search for his clothes, while Izzy took the phone from Clary and rattled the specifics of the attack in his ear.

“Should I bring Magnus?” He asked.

“No, it’s not that bad. We do need you here, though. There’s a lot of demons.”

“Okay, Iz, I’m getting dressed.”

“Be here in five,” she said and hung up.

“Your sister is such a diva,” Magnus mumbled. Alec started, having not realized that he was awake. “That’s part of why I love her.”

“Go back to sleep,” he told him while pulling on his t-shirt.

“You sure you don’t need me?”

Alec flinched at the word choice. “I always need you. But you don’t have to come to this particular attack.”

“I know, darling. I knew you’d say that,” Magnus lips turned up in a mischievous smile. “I would tell you to be careful, but you always are.”

Alec put on his boots and tied the laces, grinning. “Sleep, I said.” He picked up his stele from the bedside table, two seraph blades and his bow and quiver from where they hung on the wall, and walked out of the room. “See you later,” he called over his shoulder.

Magnus mumbled something in response, but Alec was already out the apartment door. He ran down the stairs and through the front door, and found himself under the pouring rain of a mid-September night, much to his chagrin. He drew one of Clary’s runes on his arm, “the flash,” she called it, probably a reference to some mundie TV series he’d heard about. It was his favorite rune yet, because with it running wasn’t so much running as it was _flying_.

He raced through the city feeling the wind on his face and got to the bar, “Midnight Moon”, in three minutes flat. Just as he skidded to a stop next to it, the door flew open, literally _flew,_ across the road, and crashed into an old mini that was parked there. Stuck to the door with a seraph blade in a rather grotesque manner was an equally grotesque demon with tentacles for a head and heads for arms and legs. Which incidentally meant it had four mouths full of poisonous teeth, all ready to munch you to death.

Out of the bar now ran a furious Jace, the two seraph blades in his hands leaving arches of light in the air around him and making him look like an avenging angel, all breath-taking beauty and heavenly ire. The effect was, however, somewhat ruined by the words that were coming out of his mouth about evil creatures evilly chewing his favorite jacket to shreds and of how he was going to evilly murder said evil creatures.

Alec shook himself and started drawing runes on his right arm and legs. Strength, speed, agility, balance, they all flowed quickly out of his stele, and- _what is that?!_

The sock showing from under his left boot was gold with green stripes, shiny, hideous, and so outrageously _Magnus_ that Alec instantly realized he’d taken the wrong pair while dressing up in the darkness of the room. The other sock was his, though. Jace was going to tease him endlessly for this.

Speaking of Jace, who was methodically stabbing every inch of demon he could find and yelling at Alec to go inside already.

Alec did, and almost slipped on the demon-blood-covered floor. Three werewolves were taking down four demons together, and other five were fighting alongside Izzy and Simon, trying to fend off the group of ten- eleven- _thirteen_ demons surrounding them. As he watched, Izzy’s whip wrapped around one of them and threw it across the room at him. Alec ducked, turned around, and stabbed the demon through its four heads before it could make a move. As he spun back and ran towards her, Jace following, having apparently taken enough revenge, he saw a fiery ball of hair spin in the air and tackle another demon, killing it (the fiery creature was, in fact, Clary). Simon, showing off his new shadowhunter skills, ran a demon looming over Izzy through with a spear, back flipped, and cut off two of the heads of a second demon, Clary stabbing the two left at the same time. They would indeed make awesome parabatai. And then Alec lost himself in the adrenaline of the fight, moves mirroring Jace’s as they fought side by side, taking down one demon after another. Jace got a cut on his left arm, and Alec a thin gash down the back of his right leg, from knee to ankle, but the demons were all killed and vanished soon enough. Clary and some of the werewolves had bruises on them, and Simon’s nose was bleeding lightly; Izzy’s hair looked perfect.

A few iratzes later, the shadowhunters were returning to the institute -Simon driving, Izzy riding shotgun, and Clary, Alec and Jace sitting in the back-, when Alec made the stupid decision of pulling his knees up to his chest, letting his trousers ride up, showing-

“Whoa Alec, what is that I see under your boot? Are my eyes playing with me? Is it a trick of the light?”

_Dammit_.

“What? What is it?” Izzy asked, twisting around to see.

Alec snorted ungracefully. “It’s just one bloody sock. By the Angel.”

“No it’s not just some ‘bloody sock,’” said Jace, and Alec swore he could hear the air quotes. “It’s Magnus-Bane-High-Warlock-of-Brooklyn-who-also-happens-to-be-your-boyfriend’s sock!”

Isabelle squealed. Clary squealed. Simon didn’t squeal.

“I should probably do something to prevent this conversation from straying into the topic of ‘in what circumstances would I confuse my own sock with my lover’s and put it on’, but I honestly cannot be bothered. I’ll let you all have as many mental scars as you want.”

Everyone went red and looked away. Except for Jace, of course. Jace waggled his eyebrows at Alec. Alec buried his head in his knees. He could already feel the adrenaline fading into a bone-deep tiredness, eyelids heavy.

“So.” Simon said a few moments later, trying to break the awkward silence. “Should I take you to Magnus’s apartment before we go to the Institute?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.”

The awkward could practically be smelled in the air. Alec was glad, when they dropped him off, to say “see you” and run toward the safety of his home. Magnus’s. Both.

He’d forgotten his keys when he ran out, so now he’d have to knock and wake Magnus up. He remembered the first time this had happened. He’d felt so bad about waking him that he’d spent the rest of the night sitting with his back against the door, not sulking. Dozing off. Totally not sulking. When Magnus had opened the door the next day, he’d fallen backwards and ended staring up at a very pissed warlock. Apparently he’d been worried about Alec, thinking he hadn’t come home all night. But then he’d kissed Alec, and Alec had forgotten all about how his back ached and how he hadn’t gotten enough sleep.

With kissing Magnus on his mind, he raised his hand to ring the doorbell-

As Magnus stormed out and crashed into him. Alec stumbled backwards and Magnus caught him by the arm. “Sorry,” he said, sounding relieved.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, darling. I just wanted to see you. You were taking a bit too long to come back and I supposed you’d gone to the Institute, so I was planning on setting up siege until you agreed to come back here with me. I’d even called my selkie contacts to sing you out.”

“You don’t need to siege me into coming home. Or sing me out of the Institute,” he added after a moment of thought.

Magnus grinned. “No selkies needed, then. I’ll tell them to go back to the northern seas and be seals for a while. Do I need to siege you into coming to bed?”

“Not at all. I’m tired, I’d like to sleep a little more,” Alec said seriously, and added a yawn at the end, partly real and partly for effect. He got a whine as a response.

“Tease,” Magnus murmured. But Alec had already gone into his bedroom and collapsed on Magnus’s bed, and was lying face down on the mattress, still dressed. His hair was getting long, ant it was so terribly ruffled that Magnus couldn’t bring himself to disturb such cute creature. Hot creature, he was reminded, when Alec somehow managed to shuck out of his t-shirt while keeping his face buried in a pillow.

“I can help you with getting out of your clothes, if you want. You should move though, or the pillow will drown you.”

“Didn’t you have to make a few calls? To some friends of yours? Who also happen to be seals in their free time?”

“I was actually joking about the selkies, you won’t have a seal sitting on you when you wake up. Probably. We live in an unpredictable world.”

Alec half-laughed, half-groaned into the pillow. “Why are we even talking about this?”

“You started.”

“Actually, _you_ started.”

“I’ll have to agree with that. But only because you look too cute when you’re tired. And even cuter when you’re tired _and_ in my bed.”

“I would throw a boot at you but I’m afraid they are still attached to my legs.”

Magnus smiled softly and sat at the foot of the bed, then proceeded to unlace Alec’s boots, slip them off, and find one of his socks underneath.

“You stole my sock!”

“Hmm. Sorry about that,” Alec mumbled. “I didn’t notice.”

“Don’t worry. Also, accidental fashion looks best on you.”

“It’s not fashion, Magnus. It’s a mistake.”

“Anything with one of my clothes in it can be considered fashion, darling.”

“So if you put a scarf on a seal, she’ll become a classy seal?”

“I’ll never regret anything as much as I now regret having brought up the selkies.”

Alec made exaggerated snoring noises.

“Okay, okay, I get it, you’re tired.” Magnus flicked his fingers and Alec’s combat trousers teleported to the floor. Then he moved onto the bed and slipped them both under the covers. Alec draped one arm over his stomach and buried his face in Magnus’s shoulder. Magnus’s other arm came up and tangled into Alec’s hair. They fell asleep like that, until Alec’s alarm rang and Magnus’s arm flailed to stop it, accidentally hitting the Chairman laying on his chest, who stalked off looking pissed. “That cat is everywhere,” Alec replied to Magnus’s look of guilt.

*three days later*

“Magnus, did you mix all of our pairs of socks?”

“… I might have, honey.”

Alec marched into the living room.

“It was the Chairman’s idea,” said Magnus, backing away.

Alec cornered him against the wall and kissed him.

“If the selkies ever need your expert’s opinion with scarf trends, don’t go help them without me.”

Magnus laughed against his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Me: BRAIN! How do you say roncar in English?  
> Brain: *thinking*  
> Me: *interrupts train of thought* No, for the laSt tiMe, “ronfing” wOn’T cUt iT!  
> *roncar means snore in Spanish*  
> So, I hope you liked that. Please review! I need to know your opinions, since my friends won't say more than three words about this. "I liked it." THAT TELLS ME NOTHING! WERE THE JOKES GOOD?? WERE THEY TOO BAD?? Did you even laugh?  
> Feel free to criticise, I want to improve. :)


End file.
